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Yūta followed in silence at first, the rhythmic tap…tap…tap of the cane echoing off the narrow streets as the hooded man led them deeper into Sunagakure. Fukuro rode his shoulder without a sound, head tilting every so often as if studying the strange mannerisms of the one they were meant to...

Yūta blinked, still rubbing the faint red mark where Fukuro had jabbed him awake, when a gravelly voice broke through the rooftop’s lazy silence. He shifted slightly, narrowing his eyes at the hooded stranger who had appeared beside him, speaking as if money and names were more important than...

The Hidden Sand Village had always been a melting pot of clans, traditions, and personalities. A place where the scorching sun beat down on stone streets and life moved with a rhythm shaped by wind and grit. But even among the countless individuals who called this harsh land home, none were...